If you've never read the first (unfinished) version of Death Mark'd Love, then it doesn't matter. I prefer this one. This is for all the people who've been waiting (and I mean WAITING) for the next installment. My apologies for keeping you waiting for a little less than eternity.
Giovanna


The short young woman stepped off the ladder, leather-shoed feet quietly connecting to the cold stone floor. Her dress rustled softly as she strode to the nearest table. She laid her books down gently, then returned to the shelf, brushing coppery strands of hair out of her eyes as they roamed over the titles.

After a few minutes of carefully considering some more texts, she returned to the table and sat down. With a grim expression on her face, she opened the first book and began to skim through the pages, occasionally backtracking to reread some information.



She looked up at the quiet call, her pensive expression lightening when she saw who it was. Ryana of Tierney, her closest friend at the convent, sat down opposite from her, her eyes curious. As usual, Ryana's long curly black hair was caught in two loose braids, the several escaped strands giving her an acceptablely disheveled appearance.

Alanna breathed, leaning forward and hugging the dainty girl of sixteen. I haven't seen you for days - did it happen again?

The girl's carefree expression faded away. Returning the embrace tightly, she whispered, Two days. Daughter Agnes stayed with me the entire time. Her breath caught in her throat. They say that priestesshood is my calling, Alanna.

The red-head pulled away. Do they? she murmured, closing the book and pushing it to the center of the table. Alanna closed her eyes; if ladyhood was bad, priestesshood was worse. According to her, at least.

Ryana of Tierney; dark and petite. Beautiful. Daughter of the Baron of Tierney, an important voice in court in regards to affairs in Tusaine and Tyra. Alanna's friend since the first day; Alanna the Loud and Ryana the Quiet, they'd been called, and they had had fun times in their six years of convent life.

But no one - least of all Alanna, who was her roommate - could ignore Ryana's absences, which usually lasted one or two nights and occurred during the full moon. Alanna had once ventured into the Goddess' shrine during one particular absence, to see Ryana, eyes glazed, body stiff, in a trance, murmuring nonsense to the deity.

The Daughters had told her to keep quiet. At first, they thought Ryana was merely mentally unstable, sick, but when Ryana kept on sleep walking to the shrine, they changed their minds.

At least we're leaving for Corus in a fortnight, Alanna thought in relief, eying her friend through lowered lashes. Hopefully these..., I'll call them, will stop.

Ryana began after a strained moment of silence. What are you reading?

Alanna handed her the book she had pushed away. The Book of Gold.

Mirhtos, why? asked Ryana as she flicked through the pages, her nose wrinkled in distate.

With a sigh, Alanna pulled a crumpled letter out from a concealed pocket and handed it the girl. She'd read it so many times that she knew its contents by heart.


Alanna, [it read]
A tidbit from court: at the Midwinter banquet, King Roald decreed that Duke Roger of Conté is to be married. As of yet, bride is unknown. All that is known is that the bride will be of the Book of Gold, and that the nobles are fed up of the Duke's promiscuous habits with the ladies of court, especially the unmarried ones, and complained. His Majesty has agreed to put a stop to it, adding that it's time for you [Duke Conté] to settle down.
Watch your step. Ever since Father discovered those old archives and discovered the counter-spell to the Sweating Sickness, Trebond has been held in high esteem.
Thom


Ryana read it twice. When she was finished, she handed it back to Alanna, frowning. You are...researching?

Trying to assure myself that I am only one of the dozens of ladies eligible for the title Duchess of Conté', Alanna replied dryly.

Is it working?

Alanna fingered the designs on the cover. Half of the families in here died out decades ago. Two thirds of the daughters of families which are existant today are middle-aged wives. The remaining one third are ladies my age and younger.

Ryana looked sympathetic. I'm sorry. Tierney only appears in the Book of Silver, and in the last several chapters at that.

Alanna smiled dimly. Look at me, burdening you with my silly problems when you've just woken up. Standing up, she pocketed the letter and gathered the Book of Gold in her arms before dragging Ryana to her feet. Come, let's go get something to eat.